


Give It Up

by fridaysblues (taemin)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Betting About Sex, M/M, Multi, Suho's Shame Is Delicious, Sumaknaes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:04:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemin/pseuds/fridaysblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They're trying to fuck him. You know what this means, right?" A familiar, impish glint flashes in Baekhyun's eyes. Chanyeol pulls out his wallet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give It Up

Baekhyun notices it first.

It's not as though the maknaes are being particularly subtle, but Junmyeon's never been good at saying no to anyone. Sure, they've always employed varying levels of aegyo and charm to get out of trouble or out of doing their fair share of the chores, but this is different, more targeted. Calculating.

"They're trying to fuck him," Baekhyun casually mentions to Chanyeol one day, who promptly inhales the water he's drinking down his windpipe and spends the next minute thumping himself on the chest.

"They're not," Chanyeol wheezes, face still red. "Are you jealous? Do you really need more attention?"

"Uh-uh." Baekhyun shakes his head. "Look—" and Chanyeol follows his gaze across the room. Tao's elbow is linked around Junmyeon's, head lolled onto his shoulder. "We've got Zitao, who's the girl at the bar pretending she's drunker than she really is. Then, there's Jongin." He gestures with a lift of his chin to Jongin, who's just about to deposit himself in Junmyeon's lap, knocking Tao's head from its resting spot, "Who could not be more obvious about wanting to sit on hyung's dick." He ticks off a third finger as Sehun leans over to whisper something in Junmyeon's ear, lips so close that Junmyeon's wiping the side of his face when Sehun rocks back on his heels and beams. "And finally, to round out our trio of attention whores, we have Sehun, the biggest attention whore of them all. Because the day's not over until he's successfully violated everyone's personal space." He shoots Chanyeol a withering look. "Still think they're just being cute?"

"Jesus."

"You know what this means, right?" A familiar, impish glint flashes in Baekhyun's eyes. Chanyeol pulls out his wallet.

"Name your terms."

"Our usual?"

"Fine. Trifecta?"

Baekhyun pretends to stroke a full beard in contemplation for a moment before he decides: "Jongin's going to get there first, then Sehun. Tao's too fucking interested in cuddling."

Chanyeol takes longer, sits back to scrutinize their interactions for a solid five minutes before settling on Sehun - Jongin - Tao.

"Come on, Golden Boy," Baekhyun chuckles as they watch the way Jongin's staring at Junmyeon. "Daddy needs a new pair of headphones."

╗╗╗

A week later, Chanyeol finds Junmyeon in the bathroom at SM, beside himself and huddled in a stall. He's already blown his nose halfway through a roll of toilet paper.

"Hyung?"

"Don't _call me that right now,_ " Junmyeon hisses. "I'm the worst hyung _ever_."

"What happened?"

"Just — leave me alone."

Chanyeol waits until he's out of the bathroom to text Baekhyun: _i think it's time 2 check the results_

Thirty seconds after the message is sent, Baekhyun comes winging around the corner, phone in hand. "Seriously? No, are you serious?"

"He's in there crying right now." Chanyeol jerks his thumb behind him. "He told me not to call him hyung."

Baekhyun scoffs. "God, I kind of feel bad for him."

"Don't. He got laid."

" _Still._ " He pushes open the swinging door, face composed into an expression of concern. "Hyung? What's wrong?"

A quiet whimper drifts under the door of the second stall. Baekhyun bends over to put his hand underneath, fingers groping to catch hold of something — Junmyeon's hand, his knee, until finally he catches hold of the sleeve of his sweater and tugs on it.

"Hyu-ung," he whines. "Open the door."

"Ask him who was first," Chanyeol breathes. Baekhyun elbows him in the stomach.

"I took _advantage_ of them!" Junmyeon wails and Baekhyun has to elbow Chanyeol in the stomach again to stop him from sniggering so loudly.

"Who?" Baekhyun asks delicately even though he knows perfectly well _who_. He also knows _why_ and has a pretty good idea of _what_. It's the _when_ and _where_ he's hoping to glean.

"The maknaes! All of them! _I'm a monster!_ "

Baekhyun's face contorts. He's summoning every ounce of willpower he possesses to stop from laughing out loud. After a few steady breaths through his nose he's calm again, voice soft and comforting. "You're not."

"I'm supposed to take care of them! Of all of you!"

"What happened?"

Junmyeon sniffles loudly. "I — I'm a terrible hyung," he repeats. "Even _Zitao_ and he's not even—"

"Oh, for _fuck's_ sake," Chanyeol interrupts. "You didn't take advantage of them. They took advantage of you. They've been eyeing your dick for weeks, hyung, you're just too nice to notice. So let's agree that you _did_ take care of them, because you did exactly what they wanted you to do." Baekhyun's staring at him in wide-eyed horror, grip loosening on Junmyeon's sweater as Chanyeol punctuates his rant with, "So come on, because Baekhyun and I had a bet going — who'd you fuck and in which order?"

╗╗╗

**Seven days earlier.**

It's not that Junmyeon _wants_ to, necessarily. That is, he _does_ , thinks about it every time somebody's pushing into the space his body is occupying, but he's not about to pursue it. He was named the leader of K for a reason — he feels responsible for them, protective. He's been here the longest, knows the ropes, understands and is intimately familiar with the sting of disappointment that comes with setbacks. These days, it's been nothing _but_ setbacks, and sometimes you just need a little bit of comfort to get through it. A warm meal, a night off watching movies on the couch, maybe a shopping trip — they all help ease the strain, to varying degrees.

But sometimes the most effective way to feel better is found through another person.

The way it happens is as follows: Junmyeon's up late again, sitting at the table and flipping through the pages of some motivational book he'd borrowed from Kyungsoo. His insomnia's been especially bad lately and his knee's been giving him trouble (but then again, when _doesn't_ his knee give him trouble?) and the book's boring as hell but he's struggling through it because he feels bad returning it after all this time without at least giving it a cursory skim. He doesn't even hear Zitao padding down the hallway until there's a sharp jaw nestled in the notch of his shoulder, the weight of Zitao's body heavy against his neck.

"What are you reading?" His long fingers trace a few lines of text on the page, nose crinkled. "Five Traits of Successful Leaders? Hyung. What is this?"

"Your Korean's getting better." Junmyeon flips to the next page. "Try this, then."

"I'm not reading to you," Zitao laughs, upsetting the book out of Junmyeon's hands. It lands face down on the floor. "Not from this book. Why do you think you need this?"

Junmyeon shrugs. "I don't know if I _need_ it, but it's always useful information."

He's about to bend over to retrieve it when Tao stoops, knees hitting the linoleum with a thud that seems louder than necessary, especially after midnight.

"You didn't have to — _oh,_ " He exhales sharply when a face comes to rest in between his thighs, nosing at the drawstring on Junmyeon's sweatpants. "Zitao?" his voice cracks a little. "What are y— _oh_." He closes his eyes tightly and tries to redirect the blood rushing to his groin, but it's to no avail.

The book's forgotten.

Tao's sloppy but enthusiastic; gives head like he's been watching too many of the porn videos Kris keeps on his laptop, slobbery lips and a restless tongue and the occasional scrape of an incisor that leaves Junmyeon clawing at the table, trying desperately to stop from pushing his hips off the seat of the chair and up until he's swallowed whole because he knows Tao can't take it, as eager as he seems to try.

His breathing stutters in his chest and Tao sits back to stroke him through his release, manages to catch most of it with a napkin he's produced from god-only-knows where. He licks the rest off his hand with a benign sort of curiosity that dissolves from his face when he swallows and smiles.

╗╗╗

"That sneaky—"" 

It's the _face_!" Baekhyun and Chanyeol both exclaim at the same time. 

Chanyeol runs his hands over his face. "I had him third." 

Baekhyun's just as glum. "Me too." 

Junmyeon tries to respond to this but it comes out a blubbering mess that curls upward in a question, something like _are you guys making fun of me right now?_ , incoherent, punctuated by a bubble of snot that Baekhyun wipes away for him with a folded square of toilet paper and shakes his head. 

"Sorry. Go on."  
  


╗╗╗

**Three days earlier.**

Junmyeon starts reading in bed after that, lies awake at night anyway except now he's thinking about Tao and _fuck, that was bad, I should have stopped him_. He's read the same page six times and comprehended exactly none of it when he decides to go to the bathroom and get a glass of water, maybe wash his face and try to convince himself he's tired enough to sleep.

He's not expecting anyone to be in there when he pushes open the door, but there's Sehun, towel wrapped around his waist like he's just about to get in the shower, looking at himself in the mirror. The corner of his mouth curls up in a smirk as Junmyeon stifles a yawn, blinking under the harsh white flickering of the fluorescent light.

"You're up, too?"

"I'm always up. What are you doing?"

"Taking another shower. It's so fucking hot in here. Can't sleep if I'm too sweaty, so…" He grins. "Want to join me?"

Junmyeon laughs. "No thanks, I'm clean."

"Well. That's an easy fix." Sehun drops the towel and Junmyeon's come over with a nagging sense of deja vu when Sehun starts pulling at his shirt and biting at his earlobe. He's not even sure _when_ his clothes come off, only that they're on the floor and don't help cushion his back from how fucking cold the tile is when Sehun's got him spread out with his knees drawn up to his chest, his long thin fingers, wet with spit, exploring the soft stretch of skin between his thighs before he's twisting a fingertip against the pucker of his ass.

Junmyeon flinches. It stings — it always does at first, and Sehun's not being particularly gentle, all nervous energy and excitement as he thrusts his index finger down to the knuckle and holds it there, discarding a messy string of kisses against the back of Junmyeon's thigh as he rocks his hand back and forth. Junmyeon's torn because it's starting to feel good and rolling away because the door's still open and anybody could walk in and it's _Sehun_ for fuck's sake, but Sehun pushes in a second finger and then _spreads them_ and he chokes on the gasp that starts to roll out of his throat.

Sehun's kissing him so insistently at this point that when he finally comes it's with a drawn out, sighing groan deep into Sehun's molars that makes Sehun laugh as he sits back and starts to wipe at the mess on Junmyeon's chest.

"Guess you'll _have_ to shower, now," he says slyly as Junmyeon rises onto wobbly knees and clutches at the edge of the sink.

╗╗╗

"Wow. Sehun," Chanyeol says, almost a little reverently. "What a pro."

"So what about Jongin?" Baekhyun cuts in impatiently. "What happened with him?"

Junmyeon looks down at his legs and shakes his head.

╗╗╗

**Earlier that morning.**

Junmyeon is so exhausted that he barely notices something's up when Jongin lingers in his lap for a moment, pressing just a little too hard against the snap of Junmyeon's jeans before settling himself into the next seat. He flashes Junmyeon one of those bright smiles of his, teeth gleaming a little with the glow of streetlights through the tinted windows of the van and pulls on his headphones. Interaction over. It's early, though, so he doesn't think too much of it — too early, he thinks, almost a little wistfully, noting the sun hasn't even risen yet as they pull up in front of the SM building and file in.

They're split up almost immediately after their morning dance rehearsal because Kyungsoo and Baekhyun need to warm up before vocal training; Chanyeol's working with Sehun on — _something_ — and Jongin, of course, stays behind to work, even though he's always the one who needs it the least. Junmyeon stays too, legs splayed out in a wide V, forehead dropping to the floor between them as he groans.

"You okay, hyung?" Jongin stops what he's doing to crouch next to Junmyeon, a comforting hand against the back of his neck. Junmyeon doesn't move.

"Yeah. Just tired."

"Me too. Here." He massages his thumbs against an especially large knot that's worked itself underneath Junmyeon's shoulder blade. "Just relax."

Now _this_ — this feels so fucking good that Junmyeon _knows_ the whimper that creeps past his lips is a little obscene, but he just can't help it. Jongin hesitates for a moment before pushing a little harder.

"Fuck." Junmyeon sits up and stares at Jongin, who's blinking slowly, his brown eyes going soft around the edges as he leans in and lets his mouth bump against Junmyeon's temple. And then suddenly Jongin's in his lap and he's on the floor and Jongin's on top of him and he thinks _Jesus fucking Christ, not this again_ but Jongin's pinned their bodies to the floor with his hips, grinding a little. He moves like he's hinged in the middle and powered pneumatically, the rhythm of his thrusts even, consistent. Junmyeon laughs at the thought of Jongin's internal metronome, so precise it controls all of his movements, not just the ones on the dance floor and Jongin kisses him, probably thinking he's laughing at something else entirely.

Jongin comes first, clenching at Junmyeon's shoulders so tightly that the fabric's still wrinkled after he relaxes and lets his hand wander past the waistband of Junmyeon's sweatpants to pull him to completion, too. Afterwards, he stands up and offers Junmyeon and hand and it's then that Junmyeon thinks, _my underwear is sticky_ and then _fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_ and he can't look Jongin in the eye when he says, "Sorry, I — I'm not — I think I'm going to be sick," and he's gone before Jongin can say anything at all.

╗╗╗

After Junmyeon's finally finished talking, when he calms down and his face isn't so mottled from crying that he looks ill, Chanyeol and Baekhyun pull him to his feet and walk him down the hall to the van that's waiting outside for them.

"Don't worry about it, hyung. It's okay," Baekhyun soothes, tugging the door open. "You're a good leader."

Junmyeon nods absently.

"Really."

"Really what?" Jongin's voice startles them. Junmyeon averts his eyes, suddenly extremely interested in his seat belt. Baekhyun's lower lip curls.

"Man, fuck you."

"Whoa, what? Why?" Jongin's eyes widen. "What did I do?"

Baekhyun punches Jongin in the arm and cuts in front of him to climb into the back seat between Chanyeol and Junmyeon. "I was going to buy a new pair of headphones with that money. You're a disappointment, maknae. Get in the damn van."

Jongin's bewildered, shoots a curious glance along the row of faces in the back seat, but he doesn't have time to ask any questions before Sehun's hip-checking him.

"Hey, Sehun," Chanyeol begins, pulling a wad of bills out of his pocket. "Can you do me a favor?"

Sehun hums in agreement, attention held by the device in his hand.

"Sehun." He taps him on the head sharply.

Sehun snaps to attention, lips pressed together in annoyance. "What?"

"Give this to Tao, will you?" He shoves the money into the hood of Sehun's sweatshirt, who fishes it out after a struggle and looks at it dubiously.

"What the fuck? What is this for?"

Baekhyun shakes his head sadly. "We underestimated him."


End file.
